


Love and Other Drugs

by Living_Underground



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Diana Angst, F/M, PWP, Scully is (rightfully) pissed at mulder, Smut, X-Files Porn Battle: Fucksgiving 2020 Challenge, and a fluffy ending, angsty sex, damn I forgot I had to come up with a title, drunk scully, gratuitous use of the word fuck, in the gunman's lair, sober mulder, with a smutty middle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:28:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27809128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Underground/pseuds/Living_Underground
Summary: Fucksgiving Prompt 22: Scully being mad over Diana or Phoebe (writer's choice). She ends up at the Gunmen's drunk. She drunkenly flirts with Byers (the only sober one). Before Frohike, Langley and Scully decide which game to play, Byers calls Mulder quickly, telling him what's happening. Mulder and Scully end up fucking at the Gunmen's.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 3
Kudos: 53





	Love and Other Drugs

**Author's Note:**

> When I was prompted this today I was so close to turning it down, just because I had a shit tonne of work to do today and I had planned on focusing on two other fics today. But it kept bothering me. And then I just wrote it, because, you know, practice is practice. 
> 
> The fact that I managed to finish this and everything I actually had to do today is a minor miracle, but one that should be celebrated with smutty, smutty angst. 
> 
> I haven't proofread or edited this so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I shall own my mistakes and be proud of them

‘She’s so…ugh, I just…that bitch!’

‘Yeah, you say it, girl,’ Frohike cheered her on, grinning over at Langley as he did so.

‘And he chose her, he chose _that_ , over me? And I get it, I’m not leggy, and my boobs are…’ she looked down at her chest, frowned, ‘nowhere near the size of hers, but I have brains. I’m clever and I…he laughs at my jokes sometimes and I…I care about him. Doesn’t that count for something?’

‘Yeah, yeah it does,’ Langley nodded encouragingly and handed her the bottle of cheap tequila they’d been passing around. She took a gulp, winced, and gave it to Byers, who placed it on the table next to him without taking a drink.

The rather tipsy agent Scully was sat in the middle of their worn, slumping couch, Langley sprawled out beside her on one side and Byers sat uncomfortably on the other, whilst Frohike spun himself to-and-fro in one of their desk chairs. She’d turned up out of the blue, looking pissed off and like she might kill on or all three of them, or maybe just obliterate all of mankind, and had spat something about ‘fucking Diana’ and how weak minded Mulder was before slamming her way through cupboards until she found what she was looking for, returning with Frohike’s stash; bottles of scotch, tequila and spiced rum.

She’d also pulled a packet of Morley’s from her bag, but Byers had confiscated those.

‘I just can’t believe him. I spend so much time trailing him across the fucking country, keeping him safe, arguing his case, and just like that he drops me for _her_. I mean, I was held in fucking contempt of fucking court for him-‘

‘Legendary!’ Langley cried out in interruption.

‘And what does it mean to him? Nothing. Jack-shit. I don’t know why I even bother. Did he tell you about how he ran off into the woods when I proper- prop- pro-sitioned him? Can you imagine. You know, if he really didn’t like me, if he really objected to me that much, he should have just said. Been p’lite about it. Didn’t need to leave me standing there in his fuckin’ motel room like an idiot. Didn’t need to go off with some other woman and lie about it. He does that, though, doesn’t he? I mean, firs’ there was Phoebe, and okay, they had hist’ry, but then there was that Bambi bimbo – tha’s hard to say – fucking Bambi, who calls their kid Bambi anyway? And then, well then there was Dete’tive White. What a bitch. Thinks she can just go around in his favourite perfume and he’ll fall right at her feet – I walked in on them, you know. But I thought, I thought to myself – none of them ever came back, I thought they were just…I don’t know what I though’. I thought maybe he’d realise that I was right there in front of ‘im,’ she huffed a sigh, reached for the bottle of spiced rum when Byers held the tequila out of her reach. ‘You wouldn’t treat me like that, would you John?’

He sputtered. It really was the only reaction he could have to such a question – particularly when she was sliding her leg over his, playing with his tie and pouting at him. ‘Uh, no, no, of course not,’ he shook his head, not knowing where to look as she batted her eyelashes at him and smiled, mood changing fast enough to give whiplash.

‘No, of course you wouldn’t. You’re a gentleman, see. Do you think about it sometimes? You and me? We’d be good together, y’know? We’d make Mul’er jealous. An’ you’re sweet – sweet li’l Byers. You could tie me up, y’know, with all you’re sens’ble ties, not like Mul’er’s ties, sens’ble ties,’ her lips were making their way up his neck and he would pull away if only her hand were not gripping his tie so tightly.

‘Agent Scully, Dana, I think-‘

‘Dana,’ she giggled, ‘Mulner never calls me Dana. Maybe s’too close to Diana. Fuckin’ bitch. I don’ like ‘er. Do you like her, Byers?’

‘Er, not as much as I like you?’ he hazarded, using her distraction to extricate himself from her grasp, sliding up from the chair and heading to the landline on the wall. ‘I’m calling Mulder, you guys keep her occupied.’

‘Sure, sure,’ Frohike gave, with Langley’s ‘no problem, Man.’

He shook his head, knowing that whilst his friend’s respected Scully too much to do anything, she was not apparently against making moves towards them. Dialling the number he knew by heart – other than the local pizza place, it was the only one they really called - he waited for Mulder to pick up, praying that he wasn’t busy with Diana. On the sixth ring he picked up, a harried tone crackling through the receiver, ‘yeah, what?’

‘Mulder?’

‘Speaking?’

‘It’s Byers.’

‘Hey, Man, I’m in a bit of a-‘

‘How soon can you get over here?’ he took his ear away from the phone, hollered at the guys to keep it down.

‘What? I’m not in the mood for Mexican or D&D today, Byers. Scully’s in a mood with me for no reason at all, she’s not picking up my calls, and I’ve got Diana calling me up every half hour asking for advise on a fucking case that has no X-file in sight.’

‘We’re not having a games night. Well, we might be actually-‘ he pulled the receiver away again, ‘no, we don’t have a twister board, and even if we did I don’t think we should play it. Look, Mulder-‘

‘Are you guys drunk?’

‘The others are, yeah. Mulder, I really think you should get over here. Scully, she’s…she’s drunk, Mulder, and I just – no, guys I don’t think strip poker is a good idea - look she’s not in a good place, man, she’s been drinking and flirting and – Agent Scully, please stop undoing your shirt – can you come over here. Please? I think she needs you.’

‘She still pissed at me?’

‘She’ll be more pissed if you don’t rescue her from herself tonight – strip-chess is not a game! I don’t care if you saw it in a Sandra Bullock movie, Frohike, it’s not a game and we’re not playing it. Christ, Mulder, just get over here. I’ve got to go.’

‘Get some coffee into her will you? And keep Frohike’s hands off her.’

‘Will do,’ and with that he hung up the phone and, as quick as he could so she didn’t leave his line of sight for more than a minute, put a pot of coffee on. He then went back through and took all three bottles of alcohol, hiding them away behind the fridge, shaking his head when Scully pouted at him. He placed a glass of water in her hand, nodded at her to drink it, before perching himself on the corner of the desk.

‘Guys, go clean up. Mulder’s on his way over.’

‘I don’ wanna see that asshole.’

‘Yes, you do, Dana.’

She nodded, her face crumpling, ‘yes, I do.’

* * *

By the time Mulder was banging on the iron door, she had sobered enough to stop slurring her words and to sit on the couch without Byers’ support. There was a sullen, alcohol-drenched stupor to her though and Byers knew without a doubt that Agent Scully would have one hell of a hangover tomorrow. He opened the door with a grim smile and ushered Mulder in, ‘thanks for coming, Man.’

‘No problem,’ he shook his head, hung his jacket up.

‘Raining?’

‘Yeah,’ they both nodded, standing in the entranceway uncomfortably, ‘so…Scully?’

‘Oh, right, through there,’ he nodded to the small area of their lair that had a sagging sofa, a writing desk and an office chair crammed in alongside metal shelves stuffed full of VHS tapes and an old Prinzvision 121. Mulder passed Langley and Frohike, sat at a computer as the older man played Doom, and the younger kept up a running commentary of what he could do better.

‘Hey, Ringo, stop back-seat gaming,’ he murmured, tapping him on the head as he passed.

‘Don’t call me Ringo then.’

‘You’d rather Richard?’

‘Langley. Stick with Langley.’

Mulder dismissed him with a shake of his head when he found his partner slouched on the worn leather of the Gunmen’s couch. She looked miserable as she glared at him and a good majority of him wanted to snap at her, tell her she had no right to be upset with him. But he figured that wouldn’t be the wisest idea. ‘Fancy seeing you here,’ that…that wasn’t his best opener.

‘I’m not in the mood, Mulder.’

‘Me either. Wanna tell me why you’re here?’

‘Wanna tell me why I’m not allowed to do anything without your knowing about it?’

He clenched his hands to fists, ground his teeth together and drew in a slow breath, ‘that’s not what I’m saying. What I’m asking is why you felt the need to come here and raid Frohike’s liquor cabinet.’

‘Because, thanks to your fucking quest, I’ve lost every single one of my friends, for one reason or another, over the last five years.’

He frowned at her, ‘I’m sorry, you’re blaming me for what now?’

‘Mulder, have you ever considered how antisocial your fucking work hours are? Have you ever considered how many friends you lose during cancer treatments and alien fucking abductions and all the other crap I’ve been through for you? Have you ever taken a moment to look at your life, and mine, and then looked at everyone around us in their thirties, settling down and getting married and having kids? Because I have no other friends, Mulder. Any friends I did have got tired of not hearing from me, or being cancelled on because I had a case, or thought I died because I disappeared off the face of the earth for three months. Or they had kids and don’t want some depressed, drunk woman coming over and waking the fucking baby. So I came here Mulder because other than you, these men are my only fucking friends. And that is your fucking fault, along with every other fucking shitty thing that has happened to me over the last five years.’

‘If I’m your only friend, why didn’t you come to me?’

_Because I’m in love with you._ ‘Because you’d rather spend your time fucking your fucking girlfriend.’

‘Wha- Diana?’

‘Yes, fucking Diana. Diana who is up to something and you don’t fucking see it because she has great legs and great tits and probably keeps you up at night with things much more interesting than autopsy reports.’

‘Don’t talk about her like that-‘

‘How else do you want me to talk about her? Like you do? Like everything from her lying mouth is gospel? Like the sun shines out of her fucking ass?’

He growled, took a step closer, ‘you don’t know her, Scully. She’s a good person, and I trust her.’

Scully stood, shook her head and went to brush past him when he gripped her arm, ‘fuck you, Mulder. You say you want the truth, that you trust no-one, but you drop everything when it comes to her. She’s manipulating you and your so fucking blind to it. Can’t you see how stupid you look?’ she knocked a stack of VHSs over as she yanked her arm from his grasp, ‘ _fuck_! Now look what you’ve made me do!’

‘They’re just tapes, they don’t matter. This isn’t about Diana, not really, is it? What’s really on your mind, because this has been building for a while-‘

‘What’s on my mind is you don’t trust me, you don’t fucking- you don’t fucking value me as your equal. And you don’t want me, Mulder. You don’t fucking want me like I want you. And I’m tired of it. I’m so fucking tired of being second best, of being someone you can drop and pick up when you feel like it!’

‘I don’t- I don’t treat you like that. The way you say it I treat you like shit, and I don’t-‘

‘You _do_ , Mulder.’

‘Then why the fuck do you stay, Scully, if you hate me so much?’

She looked at him, really looked at him, face falling as she finally shook her head and turned away, the fight going out of her, ‘if you don’t know already, Mulder, then it’s not important.’

‘What? Scully, that’s- I’m not a fucking mind-reader. Hey. Hey!’ he took her shoulders, spun her to face him.

As flint strikes steel, it’s the spark needed, her hands pulling him down for a hard kiss as flames lick at the dry scrubland between them.

‘Scull-‘

‘This, Mulder. This is why I can’t leave you,’ she dragged his face back down, pressed herself into him, forced his mouth open with her own. She was giving herself one chance. One chance to feel, to love, before she left him. Her hands, knotted in his hair, tugging at his flesh. Teeth biting and tongue plundering. Her coordination was still off.

No matter, she didn’t need coordination to slam him into the shelves of VHSs, to shift them round so she was the one whose head banged into one of the metal ridges. He was moaning in the back of his throat and she was unsure whether he was aware of it, but she was certain he was aware of the hardening in his pants when he ground it against her stomach and she muffled her whimper by sealing her mouth over his.

A flurry of hands at zippers and she was grasping him; hot, heavy and hard in her small hand. He grunted and pulled away, staring down at her dark eyes and heaving breast, letting her tug at his cock once before he dropped his head to kiss behind her ear, to mouth at her neck, and tucked his hand into her tight pants, finding wet panties and a wetter centre, a hissed ‘fuck’ at first contact.

Frenetic fingers, curling, swiping, flicking and swirling, had her head lolling back against the shelves, her hands stilling on his shaft in a tight fist as her hips rolled and ground down on him, moans and whimpers goading him on.

If either of them heard the cough, the laugh and the sputter that came from the doorway, or the slamming of the sliding door, they ignored it when Mulder reached for a breast, groped and thumbed at the lace under the thin blouse, the hardening nipple begging for his attention. When he bent his head to capture the other one, he dropped his hand to the back of her thigh, used it and the hand cupping her head to support her as she hoisted herself to stand on the second shelf and wrap one leg around his waist. The movement pressed his fingers into her front wall, crushed his palm to her clit, and her teeth bit into his shoulder as she spasmed around him, head falling back with a guttural whine as her muscles continued to pulse and draw at his fingers, her fluids coating them thoroughly.

A rasping breath as he pulled his digits out, smirk lingering on his lips, ‘you still think I don’t want you?’

‘Prove it,’ she growled, catching his ear between her teeth and shoving her pants over her hips, ‘fuck me.’

‘No preamble there, huh?’

‘Five fucking years of preamble,’ she took his slick hand in her own, wrapped them both around his cock, pulling him out of his boxers, and dragged them up and down, coating him in herself before using the leg around his waist to bring him in, closer, rubbing him against her lace-covered folds. Two fingers, previously sunken into her, tugged her panties aside, allowed her to guide him into her; one deep, quick plunge. ‘Ah, fuck,’ a gasp, a sigh and a bleating whine as he held there.

She squirmed when his stillness became too much and he released a breath, rocking his hips back and thrusting forward into her again. He took the leg around him in hand, pressing her thigh back and up, opening her further and taking more of her weight on his arms. As he hammered into her, cassettes fell, a cadence of cracks to the percussion of the shelves pounding and knocking into the wall, top notes of those tapes that were still in place rattling amongst themselves whilst their breathy grunts and pants and growls and moans harmonized.

The pressure building between them was going to crest, and he wasn’t going to let it without seeing her eyes. He clasped his hand to the back of her head, pressed his sweat-slicked forehead against hers, nudged at her nose with his own until she opened her eyes, locked gazes with him. With a hum she coiled and he exploded, an IED going off, the heat soldering their bodies together.

When she could feel him softening inside of her, feel their mixed essences seep from her swollen cunt, she let her leg drop, stepped down from the ledge she was on. She took a moment for her breathing to return to normal, head turned decidedly away from him, whilst he loomed over her, forehead pressing into one of the metal shelves, arms either side holding him up. ‘Fucking hell, Scully.’

‘Please don’t,’ she was tired. Her head hurt. Her gut was rolling with nausea. She’d drunk too much, eaten only the toast Byers had made her, moved too fast. Her gaze flickered to the shut sliding door and she covered her face with her hand as she started to sob.

‘Hey, what’s-‘

‘I can never come here again. Oh, God, I’m so humiliated. Fuck,’ she shook her head, pulled her pants up, shakily buttoning them and leaving the zipper, ‘I have to go. I’m sorry, I can’t- I just- I have to go,’ she pushed the door open with a grunt of effort, kept her head down as she walked through the startlingly empty, office grabbed her coat and walked out into the rain.

* * *

She was sat outside her front door, hair curling as it dried from the rain, crying into her knees when he found her. She didn’t look up when she heard him approaching, but tried to quiet herself, pressing her lips together as if she could hold her tears in.

It wasn’t until he slid down the door to sit next to her, elbow bumping her own, that she sniffed and tilted her face to look at him. ‘What are you doing here, Mulder?’

‘I thought you’d like to know I got the guys to erase all the CCTV footage for tonight. And you left your bag there, and I figured you couldn’t get into your apartment.’ She gave a snivelling cross between a laugh and a sob, her body trembling as she buried her head in her arms again. He sat her bag in front of her then placed two disposable coffee cups between them. ‘It’s the shitty sludge from the all-night diner I’m afraid.’ She gave a whispered thank you and he nodded, ‘you want to talk about it now?’

She nodded, took a sip of the bitter coffee and grimaced, ‘it’s not just about Diana. But it is a lot about her.’

‘Okay.’

‘I feel- we’ve worked together for five years now, Mulder, and we’ve both been through so much together. And that- it builds a bond, emotions, I don’t know. I binds us together. And this tension, this frustration between us, it’s always going to be there – we’re like magnets, opposites attracting one another. And maybe, for you, that’s all it is – attraction and frustration combining to make this…implosive tension, this…pressure, forcing us together. But…I…’ she paused, looked at him with sad eyes, tried to pick out words she could use to dance around the one word she refused to mention, ‘I…care for you. More than I should. More than I ever imagined I could. And this attraction to you, Mulder, it goes so far past just being in your presence all the time, it’s not just an attraction to your looks, your body, it’s so much deeper than that. And it’s so hard to have it unrequited.’

‘It’s not unrequited, Scully-‘

She shook her head, ploughed on, ‘and it’s not just that you love Diana, it’s that you are obsessed with your quest, with finding the truth and answers and…and they’re what make you you. If I were to ask you to change you wouldn’t be you and I wouldn’t love you, but it’s far too painful to be around you when my heart is tearing out of my chest for you.’

He was silent for a long moment, studying his shoes, before he reached out his hand and laced his fingers with hers, locking a lifeline between them, ‘I did love Diana once, you know. We were married, I was young. And then I didn’t love her and we weren’t married and I wasn’t so young. But do you know something, Scully? There is not one day that I spent with Diana that hurt more than every single day I spend looking at you. And she hurt me bad, Scully, so bad. And you know what? I never loved her like I love you; not in this all-consuming way.’

‘You don’t mean that.’

‘Hmm,’ he brought her hand to his mouth, pressed his knuckles to his lips, ‘I wish I didn’t mean it. I wish so badly for this to be what it isn’t. I think if I loved you less it would be easier.’

‘Me too.’

‘I’m not sleeping with her, you know. She’s not my girlfriend.’

‘But-‘

‘We have a history together. I’ll still trust her until I have evidence of my own not to, but I did love her, and I will still trust her. I know you don’t understand that, but I don’t know what else to do. If I don’t trust her, it feels like it invalidates so much of my life, of my trust in myself.’

She nodded, lay her head down on his shoulder, ‘I do get it, Mulder. I understand not wanting to not trust yourself.’

‘I don’t want to lose you.’

‘Me neither. But things can’t keep going on the way they were, Mulder. We can’t keep pushing one another away. I can’t keep doing it.’

He sighed, dropped his head back against the door, ‘why don’t we just stop trying. Let the magnets stick together. See what happens?’

‘Won’t it be catastrophic when it ends?’

‘Won’t it be ecstatic when it doesn’t?’

She chuckled softly, wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeve, ‘it’s too late for philosophy, Mulder. Take me to bed.’

‘Only if you help me stand up. My knees have seized.’

‘Hmm, old man,’ she muttered with a smile and reached a hand down towards him when she was up, heaving him up alongside her.

‘School night tonight.’

‘Hmm. Better get some sleep then.’

‘You know, Scully,’ his breath brushed the shell of her ear as she unlocked the apartment, stepped behind with him grazing her back, ‘I did burn a copy of the CCTV onto a VHS before I made the guys delete it,’ he drew from his pocket a tape with a blank label, waved it in the air and wiggled his eyebrows.

She just rolled her eyes and shook her head, ‘save it for the weekend, Mulder.’

**Author's Note:**

> I know that Two Weeks Notice came out in 2002, but fight me. IDGAF, strip-chess is a game only rivalled by strip-trivial pursuit
> 
> I wrote Mulder as a real asshole in this, but, let’s be real, he kind of is sometimes. Also, like, the red-flags he gives off in this…holy fuck, I did not write a healthy relationship. But then, it’s not like they have a healthy relationship in the show so…also, I've never really been around any healthy relationships, so...


End file.
